


and we are not saved

by onskylandmountain



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, On the Run, Post-Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onskylandmountain/pseuds/onskylandmountain
Summary: The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and we are not saved. [Jeremiah 8:20]





	

Scully stirs as Mulder slides onto the motel bed and wraps his arms around her from behind. The sheets smell like cigarette smoke and bleach and his lips ghost across the base of her neck. Her fingers clench into fists as the last echoes of her dream drift away. She turns around to face him, her hands sliding up his forearms.

“Hi,” he says, smiling at her and dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.

She closes her eyes for a moment. “Hey,” she whispers back. 

“Car's packed.” He kisses her cheek. “Ready to go?”

She presses her face into his chest for a moment, closing her eyes to block out the light. For a moment, just a moment, everything feels manageable. She pulls back as his arms start to tighten their embrace. “Ready to go,” she agrees, moving backwards and sitting up, leaving him half propped up on the bed. Outside the sun has almost set.

In the car Mulder dozes while she drives. She plays with the heating controls for a while, her eyes switching from the long straight highway to the worn console of the second hand car. Eventually she gives up and pulls the car over to the side of the road, tyres crunching on fallen leaves and sticks. In the passenger seat Mulder sits up suddenly, reaching for the gun at his waist.

“We're fine,” she tells him quickly. She rests a hand on his forearm while he blinks at the road, at the gun in his hand, at her. “We're fine, I just need to get my scarf, okay?” 

He nods eventually, putting the gun away. She can see his breath coming too quickly, small puffs of air in the cold car. She pulls her out scarf and gloves, as well as the thick blanket from the back seat. She hands him the blanket. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

Scarf and gloves on, Scully tries to restart the engine while Mulder pulls the blanket up to his shoulders and stares out the front window. She wonders what it is he is seeing at moments like this. The engine turns over, the headlights flick back on. As she pulls back onto the road the highlights illuminate something on the opposite side, and she slams down hard on the breaks.

“Jesus, Scully!” Mulder grabs the sides of his chair. “What's wrong?”

Scully peers past him at the forest. “I thought I saw … something by the road.”

Mulder looks out his window. “Probably an animal... a deer, maybe?”

“Yeah.” Scully takes a deep breath. “Probably.”

They switch places at two am, trading the blanket for the drivers seat. Scully watches as Mulder rubs his hands together briskly before trying the heating controls. 

“Doesn't work,” she mumbles, pulling the blanket tighter around her. 

Mulder slams his fist against the console. “I liked being on the run better when it was warm,” he jokes.

“Want my gloves? We can always head south.” She holds out her hands.

Mulder shakes his hands at the gloves, which wouldn't have fit him anyway, and starts driving.

“I have contacts in Illinois,” he tells her, which he told her six days ago when they changed direction, which tells her very little.

Scully dozes a little, faintly aware of Mulder pressing his knees up against the steering wheel so he can open a packet of sunflower seeds, then open a can of root beer. The rustling of the bag keeps jolting her out of her sleep, but she keeps her eyes closed and her chin against her chest.

She slams awake with a gasp, her finger digging into the arm at her waist.

“It's okay, it's okay Scully.” She blinks at Mulder, then down at his arm and slowly uncurls her fingers from their tight grip. “That must have been some nightmare,” he says, half-questioning. She nods and takes a deep breath, looking around them. They're in a car park, beneath a blue blinking sign. Another motel, another sunrise coming up over the trees

“I'm okay,” she pushes his hand away and then pushes the blanket onto the floor by her feet. “I'll go get a room.” He looks like he wants to argue, but Scully's already pushing the car door open, her feet tingling with pins and needles. It's still cold so she pulls her scarf tighter around her face. They can no longer get away with sunglasses, as the weather gets colder. 

She comes back with the key. Mulder's leaning on the car, their shared duffel bag over his shoulder. The sky is getting lighter and she can make out streaks of pinkish light above the treeline. 

“You should have waited in the car,” she tells him, holding out the key. She grabs her purse from the front seat and throws the blanket over her arm. 

In the room Mulder duct-tapes the blanket to the window to help the paper thin curtains keep out the daylight. Scully washes her face and brushes her teeth vigorously. She tries to avoid looking in the mirror too often. She changes into her pyjamas while Mulder uses the bathroom.

“Aren't you hungry?” He frowns at her as she tucks herself under the covers. 

“I'm just tired,” she replies. 

“You should eat. I can go out – we passed a diner on the way in, I can get a burger, or salad or something.”

“You shouldn't go out, Mulder,” she says tiredly, climbing back out of bed. “If you're hungry I'll go get something.”

“No, forget it.”

“Mulder, you're right, we should both eat something. I'll go buy some food.” She pulls her jeans on over her pyjama bottoms, then tugs the top off. She reaches for her bra but Mulder grabs her hand. 

“It's fine,” he whispers. He raises his hand to her face and strokes her cheek gently. For a moment Scully feels her body start to relax, but she steps backwards before she steps unthinkingly into his arms. Leaving the bra she pulls her t-shirt and jumper back over her head. 

“What do you want?”

Mulder shrugs, tucking her bra and their toiletries into the duffel bag and placing it near the door. Ready to leave at a moment's notice. Scully checks her watch – 6.24am. “I'll be back by 7am, okay?”

Outside the sun has risen, but the air is still cold.

When she wakes its just after 2pm. Mulder is pressed against her back, one arm slung heavily across her waist. She pushes his arm up and kicks the blankets off. Mulder snorts behind her, shifting away. The room smells like stale food. She gathers up the remains of the cooked breakfasts she bought and places them the bin, tying the bag tightly closed to try and contain the smell. Grabbing her toiletry bag and her purse, she locks herself in the bathroom. She manages to get the over-bath shower going, perched on the edge of the tub in her underwear. The pipes clank loudly as she waits for hot water. Eventually steam starts to fill the air.

At the bottom of her purse is the bible she stole from the motel room in mid-July, when the heavy heat kept her awake and she took cold showers to scrub off the sweat. She flicks through it restlessly, scanning the words, looking for comfort. It's been too long since she found help in there.

She tosses it on the far end of the tub and pulls off her underwear to climb under the hot water. Its a luxury – in the last few places they had stayed only ever seemed to have cold water. There's even tiny bottles of flowery smelling shower gel and shampoo to supplement the plain soap she and Mulder have been sharing, so Scully lingers, washing her hair twice and scrubbing every inch of herself from behind her ears to in-between her toes. 

Mulder knocks on the door while she standing with her back to the shower, letting the hot water pound the tense muscles at the top of her back. “Sorry Scully, I gotta use the bathroom!” 

Scully sighs and forces herself out of the shower. Some days she really misses having her own bathroom. She wraps herself in one of the threadbare towels and unlocks the door. Mulder grins at her as he pushes past. He doesn't wait for her to leave but she hurries out anyway, pulling on her clothes.

Mulder comes out of the bathroom as she buttoning her jeans. He wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck. “We've got a few hours before we can leave,” he says, slipping his hands under her bottom of her t-shirt to stroke her stomach.

“I just showered,” she tells him, pushing his hands away. “I'm sure there's plenty of hot water if you want one.”

“Is that a hint?” He says lightly, stepping away and into the bathroom. “Hey, you left your purse in here!” 

Scully pauses then dashes into the bathroom. He's already holding the bible. She feels herself blush, which is ridiculous. Mulder places the bible into her bag and hands it to her wordlessly. “Thanks,” she mumbles, leaving the bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.

She makes the bed and lies back on it, telling herself to catch a couple of hours sleep before they start driving again. She rests her purse on her stomach, then moves it to the bed next to her, before turning over and curling up. She fiddles with the strap. The pipes are still clanking loudly, even loud out here she thinks. The pillow on this side of the bed still smells like Mulder.

Mulder takes the first turn at driving that night. Scully picks at the edge of the blanket where the duct tape was, the sticky residue pulling at her skin.

“You smell nice,” Mulder says suddenly.

“What?”

“Sorry, I – there was more of a lead up to that in my head.”

They sit in silence for a minute.

“They had some shampoo and stuff at the last motel.”

Mulder nods and pops a sunflower in his mouth. She can see him chewing from the corner of her eye. “You can buy some nicer stuff if you want. I don't mind smelling flowery.” She can feel him grinning at her.

“Its cheaper to buy the plain stuff. Besides, you can't afford to stand out.”

Mulder nods silently and plays with the heating controls.

“It's still broken,” she tells him, and then immediately regrets it. He pulls his hand away, wrapping both of them firmly around the steering wheel. Scully squeezes her eyes closed and swallows around the lump in her throat.

“We could play twenty questions,” Mulder says. “I-spy? License plate game?”

Scully looks at the empty highway. Mulder shrugs. “Truth or dare?” he offers, instead. 

Scully doesn't meet his eyes. He has to keep them half on the road anyway. Not many dares in a moving vehicle, she thinks of saying. What else are you going to dare me to do?

“I should try and get some sleep,” she tells him instead.

She turns her head to face the window and wonders if Mulder can see her open eyes in her reflection.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” 

She turns to look at him, and he's still staring at the road, like he hasn't said anything at all. There are a thousand sentences crowding the tip of her tongue. She bites her lip and turns her head back to the window. She watches the trees speed by, the dark forests crowding the empty road. 

Eventually it lulls her to sleep.

When she wakes the car is parked and Mulder is nowhere to be seen. She reaches for the holster but her finger close on empty air, forcing her out of the last dregs of sleep. She struggles out from under the blanket and out of the car where the cold makes her gasp. 

They're parked to the side of a gas station, the only building she can see for miles around. She wraps her arms tightly around herself and starts walking briskly across the court, trying to figure out where Mulder might have gone. There where no other cars around. She dodged around the pumps and headed towards the shop. She couldn't see anyone through the window, but where else would Mulder be? 

As she approaches the door Mulder appears from around the side. “Hey!”

She steps towards him and punches him in the chest. “Jesus, Mulder!” 

“What?” He rubs at the spot she hit and frowns at her. “Aren't you cold? You don't even have a coat on.”

“I was worried about you, you took the gun - I didn't stop to put on a coat!”

Mulder grabs her arms and pulls her forward – Scully looks back as a woman steps out of the door behind her. She frowns at the two of them, and Mulder wraps his arm around her and starts walking them back to the car.

“You shouldn't be walking around where people can see you,” she hisses at him, trying to pull away. 

“I had to use the payphone.” At the car he opens the passenger door for her. “I didn't want to wake you.”

Scully shakes her head. “It's my turn to drive. And I need to use the bathroom first.” 

The bathroom is to one side of the station and when she gets there the door is locked. She glares at the sign telling her to get the key from inside the store. She lets herself kick the door, but lightly, guiltily, so she doesn't feel better for it at all.

The attendant in the store hands the key over without saying a word. As she leaves she tells herself it's ridiculous to think she can feel Mulder watching her move between the cones of light 

Back in the car Mulder has the map spread across his legs. Scully tries to pull the drivers seat forward, swearing as she catches her hand in the mechanism. 

“Hang on.” Mulder leans over, the map scrunching up. He rests one hand next to her thigh and smoothly lifts the lever beneath her knees. “There.” Scully scoots forward, ignoring Mulder's hand against the back of her knees. Her breath catches in her throat – she can smell him, the sweat on his neck, the lingering scent of shampoo in his hair. “Better?”

“Um, yeah. Thanks.”

Mulder pulls away and for a second she wants to pull him back. He smooths the map out over his knees. “There's a safe house in a town about an hour from here. Once we're back on the highway, you'll need to take the first turning.”

“Is that what you were calling about?”

“Yeah.” He holds up on old receipt with a hastily drawn map on the back. “But it's not a house, it's an apartment.”

Scully starts the engine. “Who are they?”

“They?”

“The people you called. Or person.”

“Just friends.”

Scully taps her fingers on the steering wheel as she pulls out onto the road. Mulder folds the map, ignoring the existing creases. She grits her teeth. “How long will we be staying with them?”

“What?” Mulder looks up from where he was stuffing the map into the glove compartment. “No, they aren't there. It's just a place we can stay in for a bit.” He leans back and smiles at her. “Reliable hot water, a bed made from something softer than rocks...” 

Scully couldn't help smile as she kept her gaze fixed on the road. “Plates?”

“Sure, plates, cutlery,” he grins and leans forward. “Maybe even a microwave.” He picks up her hand from the wheel and kisses her inside wrist. He smiles up at her and she turns her hand to interlace her fingers with his.

“Sounds great,” she tells him. He sits back up straight in his chair and Scully slowly unlaces their fingers.


End file.
